My Mismatched Man
by Kate Virgine
Summary: Madame de Pompadour and The Doctor shared a close knit past- there is no secret in that. But when The Doctor peers into Reinette's mind for information, all he learns is that she can see into his. What did she see? What was their past... and future?
1. Chapter 1: The Girl in Her Own Mind

**Chapter 1: The Girl in Her Own Mind**

My mother always said that life is journey with a single destination, but all people travel different paths.

I guess I chose my path at a young age.

In my youth, I had little acceptance for dolls and toys, both of which I looked down upon as mere playthings of children. I was not a child. I thought I was more- oh, so much more- and I never allowed others to see otherwise, pushing them away. For a while, I didn't mind; adults were ignorant; children were just that.

But slowly, as I aged, I had a newfound longing to be accepted. Some group, any group- it didn't matter. I didn't do it to learn about the people; I could understand others with an almost eerie ease. The prospect of being, essentially, nothing, was the slow and painful cause of my yearning. Through all those years of isolation, I had yet to comprehend myself. Surely a group would give me an identity.

Alas, I so felt the absolute need for control, order, and answers within my own life that I waged internal war when no one included me. _You will be something_, I'd tell myself, sounding not a bit unlike a zealous parent living through her offspring. _You are something. _

Miraculously or divinely (I have yet to determine which), the battle ceased. The yearning for friends and the need of personal identity dulled. The voice in my head that had forever plagued me had turned into nothing more than a whisper. My independence and self-loathing had taken their toll. I matured far too quickly into someone I was not meant to be. Someone rigid. Unbreakable. Untouchable.

No matter how many people surrounded me, I was alone. I lived in my own mind, rarely expressing my emotions outwardly or trusting others. I needed no one; my dreams would talk to me, and my imagination was my best friend. I thought I was content... until I met him. Until I met The Doctor.


	2. Chapter 2: My Mismatched Man

*******************************************************************************Chapter 2:** **My Mismatched Man**

"You really show up at the strangest times." I laughed, shaking my head at my companion.

A lopsided smile broke across his face. "I know, I know… I travel through time, yet I've never been on time in my life. Oh, the irony."

I was in my room, preparing to meet with the King once again. I sighed, draping a glittering necklace across my bosom. I peered into my vanity, thinking for a second. "What do you think?" I asked, looking at his reflection behind me in the mirror.

"Lovely," he replied, paying little attention to it as he absentmindedly rummaged through various draws. I laughed to myself and he looked up, lost.

"Whaaat?" he asked innocently, his undeterminable accent drawing out his _a_. I only laughed again. He ambled behind me, scrutinizing the said jewelry piece as I requested before. His soft eyes met with mine in the mirror. "Lovely," he repeated, nodding to reinforce the thought. He paused a moment, returning his gaze. "Need help?"

I lifted my hair from my neck, obviously implying a 'yes'. I shivered as I felt his cool skin against my neck, his form so close to my own. He concentrated deeply on the tiny silver clasps.

If only my maids could see us now- those gossips constantly whispered about our relationship with one another. I could easily imagine them crowded behind the door, watching our every move. I shook my head, brushing off the thought as the hoops connected.

"Thank you," I said in a sing-songy voice. I righted the piece and playfully patted his dark, messy hair. He backed away, running his fingers through it again, returning it to its original distraught state. I laughed. Ever since I first met him, he has been the same man: tall, slim, playful half-smile, soft eyes, tousled hair. Young but so old. Mysterious and wise. Such a peculiar man with a peculiar way about him… my mismatched man. My wonderful mismatched man.

But how many years ago was that? Ten? Twenty? I remember it like yesterday….


	3. Chapter 3: Shadow in My Garden

**Chapter 3: Shadow In My Garden**

I met him when I was seven.

I was sitting in my personal garden- but a patch of grass at the time- as I recorded my numerous thoughts in a small diary. The day felt like any other: the only difference I could detect was the dark shadow that was cast over my light form.

Shadow?

I was jolted from my peaceful thoughts as I looked up from my notebook. The shadow, as it had turned out, was connected to a body. I slapped myself internally, involuntarily reminding myself that it was illogical to assume that a shadow would simply _be_ a shadow, a form not cast by anything, before I returned my mind to the real issue at hand. There was someone here. Someone in my garden.

"Hallo!" a cheerful voice surged. The unwelcome sound, although not unpleasant, felt inappropriate to my ears, as if it were breaking the peace of a sacred place.

I looked up, intrigued and almost annoyed. The tall, slim figure before me seemed like an extension of the shadow; the person's entire form was dark due to his position against the sun, creating a black, flat silhouette. For a split second, although I didn't want to admit it, I hoped that it _was_ just a shadow, just because it never could be. I shook my head, chastising myself_. Shadows are __only__ effects and __cannot__ exist on their own_, I repeated as I readjusted my body in attempt to see the man's face.

"Oh, right-…" the stranger said as he lowered his form to the ground. "You would like to see who I am, yes? No? Yes? No? Maybe? Oh, it doesn't particularly matter because whether you wanted to see who I was or not, you would have looked anyway. What is that called again? Hmm… Relay? Rerun? Oh yes, a reflex! Instantaneous nerve impulses that travel to the spinal cord instead of to the brain for interpretation. My God, human reflexes are brilliant! Keen, very keen… yet very complex. An interesting topic nonetheless! Then again, if you thought I was going to be some sort of big, dangerous monster you probably could have chosen not to look at me, so perhaps it isn't a reflex. Oh well, reflexes are still brilliant! Monsters, monsters, monsters… very odd word 'monsters' is. I believe it came from Latin, but then again, everything did! But monsters, monsters… what was I going to say? Ooh yes, monster stories! I do believe I have some of those… would you like to hear some, my dear?"

Disoriented by his ramblings and my own observations, I ignored his question and asked my own. "Sir?" I asked as politely as I could, trying not to seem too curious. "Who are you?"

The man smiled. "Oh yes! So she speaks! I was beginning to wonder if you were mute or just afraid… neither of which would have been a problem, but…" he trailed off, trying to remember what I had initially asked. He absentmindedly ran his fingers through his messy, dark hair. "Oh yes!" he repeated after a moment. "The Doctor." He smiled happily, looking deeply into my confused and intrigued eyes.

For a moment I looked at him, his eyes warm and genuine. At that moment, any and all doubts about this strange man in my garden were removed. I liked him. I knew it and, judging by the smile in his eyes, he knew it. I continued to contemplate his cryptic answer for a moment. "Doctor Who?"

"Exactly!" he answered, his eyes sparkling jovially. "Now how about those stories, Reinette?" I nodded a bit too eagerly, ignoring the fact that this peculiar man had somehow known my name. I felt as though I trusted him, a feeling I had not felt since I was a little(r) girl. I could be myself; listening to stories would not make me look foolish, and he would not care if I did. I was alone no more.

In response to my nod, the man moved next to me. He sat close- near enough that I could detect a light scent lingered on his being (one that smelled of faint familiarity if there could ever be such an odor)- but did not feel imposing whatsoever. He smiled at me- with his eyes, not his mouth- as he began what I assumed to be his first tale of monsters and dragons and whatnot. To feel this level of comfort with this man, this stranger, was so pleasant and unusual and lovely that I could not help but smile back at the Shadow in my garden.


	4. Chapter 4: Little Sparrow and 3 Words

**Chapter 4: The Little Sparrow and Three Words**

I tried to suppress my frown. Oh, what a bore court was… how frivolous it all was. Although raised on the premise that my position was a noble one and that balls and banquets are some of the finer things in life, I felt otherwise. I dreamed of a life filled with adventure and excitement since I was a child, but in the present moment, it was everything otherwise.

I tried to take my mind off of the boredom. I discreetly tapped my spoon against my glass, aware that I had a reputation as a mature, rational woman to uphold. The sweet note it produced instantly pacified me, for not only do I love music, but a similar tune had been present in my dressing room... the room where my lovely Doctor was waiting. I smiled lightly, thinking of his odd ramblings and playful expressions.

My peaceful daydream was rudely interrupted by the ever-wandering eyes of the king. He seemed to bore holes into my face from across the table, a slight smile playing on the corners of his mouth. I wished to avert my gaze, although I knew I was not prohibited to. His expression was discreetly rude and animal, nothing but hungry. He licked his fingers, watching me. I forced a smile, shivering. _**He**__ would never look at me that way,_ I thought subconsciously. And so my thoughts returned to The Doctor as I internally tried to push them away. I still had the same denying nature as a child. I refused to accept that I was in love, but in the depths of my heart I knew.

I inhaled deeply as I slowly raised my body from my chair. I needed to escape my boredom, the erotic stares, and the whole of royalty. I bowed to the dinner guests, most of which I didn't know or didn't want to know, and carried myself from the banquet hall to the ballroom.

Without the weight of a million eyes on me, I felt relaxed. This place was familiar. As a child, I was schooled in the beautiful art of ballet by a string of exquisite tutors. My favorite, Monsieur Cerf le L'homme, would pick me up and toss me in the air when I jumped.

"I'm flying!" I would shout.

He would smile and laugh and call out to me as I twirled joyfully in his arms. "Oh, _Moineau!_ _Moineau petit!_"

I smiled at the happy remembrance. Slowly, I carried myself across the floor gracefully, waltzing to a tune that was but that memory of years ago. Daintily I twirled. My dance was nothing but a result of refueled passion and pure joy. My dark dress airily swept the ballroom floor.

Suddenly, I felt a cold hand on my shoulder. I abruptly turned, my peace shattered by the unexpected visitor. Instead of a lazy face or hungry smile, I was greeted by warm eyes.

"May I have this dance, _Moineau petit_?"

How he always knew all my names, I'll never know. But I nodded, relief and joy rushing over me as I felt The Doctor take my hand. Silently but confidently, he lead me to the center of the large, wooden dance floor. One of his contradictingly cold hands wrapped around my waist as mine took rest on his shoulder. Gracefully, we stepped in unison, swaying to the melody of our smiles and rhythm of our hearts.

We glided across the floor as if both of our souls possessed but a single body. When we came to the middle of the floor once more, our movements slowed. I felt the intimacy of the moment suspended like a bird on its first flight, too soon ended. Lightly, The Doctor released his hands from my body and looked moodily into my eyes. He bowed cheekily. I smiled.

For a moment, the room was silent. Then, like an eruption, The Doctor became his animated self once more.

"So, Reinette, how was the king's _boll_?" he laughingly asked, accentuating his _a. _I sighed, hiding my emotions behind a smile.

"It was fine, Doctor. I was just in need of… tranquility."

The Doctor's risen face fell, as if I had triggered some sort of forgotten thought. He turned away from me, deeply concentrating his mind on some unknown thing. He rambled to himself for a moment and turned back to me.

"Reinette," he said quickly, "I need something of you and you must grant me permission. Please. It's to ensure your safety." His eyes pleaded.

I met his troubled eyes with my own. "Anything you need is yours."

Again he looked to me, piercing me with his eyes. He brought his slim hands to my face. I shivered. Lightly, but still firmly, he whispered, "I need to look into your mind."

I stared at him with questioning eyes. Although I knew the nature of his mission and him himself, I did not expect such an odd request. Quickly, though, I shielded my eyes from uncertainty and met his gaze with a courageous one. "Of course."

Gently but almost instantly, I felt his cold fingers pressed against my forehead. My mind was suddenly occupied. I gasped but did not pull away.

"I'm now in your mind," he said calmly. "If there's anything you don't want me to see, imagine a door and close it. I promise I won't look."

I felt a smile creep onto my face. "Upp.. there's one, and another….." The Doctor said as he hit roadblock after roadblock. I heard a bit of a surprised and mocking tone within his voice. "You really don't want me to see, do you?" His eyes opened and he smiled.

I smiled tauntingly again before we both returned to the delicate mission at hand. Subconsciously within my own mind, I found myself imagining my polite interrogator's past. I saw sparkling hills and rivers and beauty all around… and then darkness. Silence. Then fire. Fire and fear. I saw faces of children, mothers and widows, and men burning and melting into oblivion. All was destroyed. All were dead. I saw ash and soot, blacker than the death itself. Suddenly, there was something. Someone. An injured boy, crying. Crying over the bodies. Crying over his friends. Crying over his mother. A little boy, crying silently on a silent planet. Alone.

"… and they're waiting until you're "compatible" with the ship- meaning the same age as it- to use you. When they came prior, you were still too young. But don't let them fool you… they'll…" I heard The Doctor say quickly, obviously explaining the need of his strange request.

"Alone… all alone," I whispered, involuntarily reacting to my visions. The Doctor stopped, looking into my eyes with a confused expression.

"Alone? You've never been alone in your life…." He trailed off, trying frantically to comprehend.

I pressed my forehead against his. Again the visions roared to life. Instead of death and blackness, I saw him, a little older now. I saw him helping me with my necklace in my dressing room, smiling. There he was, gliding through the ballroom, carrying me in his arms. I saw him holding me outside tenderly. Silently he whispered into my ear. I concentrated on his mouth, trying to decode his quiet message. There were three words. Only three. _I. Love. Y…_


	5. Chapter 5: Hearts

**Chapter 5: Hearts**

The Doctor looked at me, dumbfounded for a moment. Then he knew. He quickly recoiled, jerking his slim hands from my face as if he had burned himself. "How'd you do that?" he inquired, his tone resting somewhere between amazed and violated.

"A door, once opened, can be stepped through in either direction," I gently answered, knowingly. I closed the space between us, locking his dark eyes with mine. I felt him look deep into me, trying to comprehend my quiet gaze. My hand lightly and somewhat accidentally brushed up against his. He held the tips of my fingers. Other than soft, if tense, breathing and beat of our hearts, the hallway remained silent for a few strained moments. He sighed nervously and awkwardly.

"What did you see?" A look of defeated desperation crossed his face as he cast his eyes downward. I felt him grip my fingertips tighter, as if bracing himself for the reply.

I moved a step closer, placing my forehead against his own. I could smell the light scent of familiarity, just as I did all those years ago. "Oh my Doctor…" I whispered softly as I moved my hand on his chest, right between his rapidly-beating hearts. "My lonely Doctor…"

I could feel his warm breath caress me as he exhaled. I turned my eyes upward to his, seeing soft sadness and longing in them. Our faces were tensely close, our lips nearly touching. His hearts fluttered.

I trailed my hand up his torso, resting it on his shoulder. He averted his gaze to it for a moment, only to bring his eyes back to mine a second later. My eyes flashed from his soft eyes to his mouth and back again, tightening the grip on his shoulder only slightly. I felt his breathing still and his body tense, ultra-sensitive to my touch.

"My mismatched man…" He breathed slowly and his bottom lip grazed mine. I looked deep into his warm eyes, and I softened my voice.

"My wonderful mismatched man." I smiled as I finally pulled him into me, pressing my soft lips against his.

_Thank you so much for following my first story! Big shout-out to BodySnatcher4Ever for reviewing each chapter, encouraging me, and following me from the start- you're awesome :)__. _

_The comments were all very positive, insightful, and helpful! I hope you've all enjoyed the ride... more material on the way :)_

_Kisses, _

_Kate Virgine_


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